Graffito
by abbyevan
Summary: You know the singular form of graffiti is graffito? The perks of defacing school property. Oneshot, Loliver.


**Disclaimer: I don't own HM. Lilly and Oliver would have been together since that 64 pack, is that not made obvious… **

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"You know the singular form of graffiti is graffito?"

"What?"

Oliver smiles, the corner of his mouth that I can see lifting in amusement.

"Graffito."

I crinkle my nose in contemplation of the word.

"Sounds like a mob."

Miley leans forward in her seat behind me.

"You're joining the mob?"

I roll my eyes, and shake my head, shooting Miley an 'as _if_' look.

"No."

"Then what-"

"Stewart! Truscott! No talking!" Miley slides back in her seat at the look on our English teacher's red face. I see Oliver smirk and nudge his back with my foot. He winks at me, and turns back to our discussion of _To Kill A Mockingbird._

There isn't even a mockingbird, dead or otherwise.

The book confuses me.

I smile at the back of Oliver's brunette waves, scratching absentmindedly on my desk with my pencil.

"Miss Truscott!" Mr. Roberts snaps.

"Yes?"

"_Stop _doodling on your desk at _once!_" he roars.

"I- what?"

I look down, puzzled, and find that the tip of my pencil is resting on my desk. I didn't realize I was writing anything.

"Oops." I say, but Mr. Roberts strides over to the desk, grabs the pencil from my hand, and points to the door.

"To the principal!"

"What did I do?" I say incredulously. Oliver's smile is frozen.

"_Defacing_ school property! Principal!"

"But I wasn't writing anything!" I argue. It's half true- I wasn't doing anything consciously. I barely have time to read what's written on the desk before Mr. Roberts is saying it aloud.

"So, _you_ weren't the one that wrote 'L.T. & O.O.' on this desk?"

The class goes silent.

_Dead _silent.

I gulp, and I'm sure people hear it across the classroom.

"No."

"No?"

"I didn't write it," I mutter, avoiding Oliver's eyes, cursing the people who let giggles slip out of their clenched teeth.

"Your initials are L-T."

Double-_damn_ the people laughing. I look up at Mr. Roberts.

"L-T also stands for lieutenant, Mr. Roberts."

He gives me a look, but gestures to the door again. Wordlessly, I grab my bag, disappearing as fast as humanly possible.

It's a small miracle that the class bursts out into laughter after the door has slammed.

_Stupid graffito._

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

The office is cold. My sweater's in my locker, and I feel goosebumps on my arms from the air conditioning. I rub my bare arms, biting my lip as I think about the doodle.

I doodled my initials.

Okay, no big.

I doodled Oliver's initials.

Big.

I doodled Oliver's initials next to mine.

Huge.

This is _not _good.

Mrs. Abernathy, thankfully, is sympathetic, and just tells me to erase the damage, since it's in pencil.

I'm in and out in 15 minutes.

But when I step out, Oliver's there.

I freeze in place, hoping he hasn't noticed me, but the creak of the door (they really should oil the hinges) made him look up.

He gives me a grin, as if nothing has happened.

"Oliver… Why are you here?" I ask. Oliver, looking rather nonchalant, shrugs at me.

"Got sent to the principal's office."

In spite of the situation, I roll my eyes.

"No, really? I _mean_, why?"

"Oh! It was…"

"It was?"

Oliver gives me a mischievous look.

"Graffito," he says matter-of-factly, his brown eyes sparkling.

"You wrote something on your desk?"

"Yep."

There are a few moments of silence, and I sit down on the seat next to Oliver, knowing he's deliberately keeping me in the dark. I sigh after a minute of nothing, and Oliver's mouth twitches up.

"What did you write, Oliver?"

"I wrote-"

"Oliver Oken?"

We both jump as Ms. Abernathy's secretary calls Oliver. He winks and disappears through the office door. It takes five minutes for Oliver- and when he comes out the principal follows.

"You- clean _his_ desk. And you clean hers. Now."

Oliver, obviously holding back a laugh at my confused expression, grabs my arm and leads me out of the room.

When I look back, Ms. Abernathy's got a peculiar expression on. She looks almost _amused_.

What about this is so funny?

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

One of the maintenance people gives us a small bucket and two sponges. Oliver's still got his 'I-have-an-awesome-hilarious-secret' face on, from the principal to the hallway to the janitor's office and back to our English classroom, were we arrive with our supplies just as the class lets out.

People look at Oliver and I standing next to each other and burst out laughing. I give them the evil eye, but Oliver laughs too. I glare at him.

_Great, now _Oliver_'s making fun of me?_

Miley, bless her, doesn't laugh, but she does have the same expression Oliver has, like the best part is yet to come.

Oliver and I enter the room, where Mr. Roberts is getting his briefcase from under his desk. When he sees us, he gives a little laugh and shakes his head. But he's mirroring Ms. Abernathy- his face is amused. He leaves the classroom, and I hear him chortle before the door closes.

_What_ is going _on?_

With the slam of the door, Oliver and I are alone in the room.

It's quiet.

Too quiet.

An axe murderer doesn't show up or anything, but the room really is eerily silent when there are only two people inside.

"Oliver?"

"Mm?"

"Well- what I wrote… It-"

Oliver splatters some water on me with a wet hand. I shriek indignantly, and Oliver laughs.

"Don't worry about it."

"Alright."

I go to Oliver's desk, but out of curiosity go two seats behind to Miley's. I snort, shaking my head.

"What?"

I point at the phrase, etched in the desk.

"'I heart Dex,'" I say. "And yet, _we're _in trouble? There's no justice anymore."

"There isn't, is there?" Oliver smirks at me.

"Okay, so, let's wash these desks!" I say, mock-enthusiastically, gesturing at the two objects with a sponge.

"Oh- I was thinking, maybe, we could just… Not and say we did."

"Why?"

Oliver gestures towards his desk, I walk over curiously and read the inked phrase. I give a little gasp of surprise, and turn. Taking advantage, Oliver kisses me, and I melt into the embrace.

_O.O. & L.T._

Graffito isn't so bad.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

**Ta-da!**

**That… didn't suck… or did it?**

**R&R!**

**BTW: Graffito really **_**is **_**the singular form of graffiti. Funny, huh?**


End file.
